Team's Redemption
by GoldenJay98
Summary: Sequel to 'More Than a Team.' Bumblebee hasn't had it easy, and he knows it, but he's working to make his parents proud by leading Team Bee to victory. A sudden arrival alerts Bumblebee to a change of destiny and a new evil. Unfortunately for Bumblebee, the family he once called his own is no longer a family. They're barely more than a squabbling and dysfunctional team.
1. Chapter 1

_WARNING: This is a direct sequel to 'More Than a Team.' I'm not going to force you to read that story before you read this one, but it is highly recommended that you do. Some of the things in this story are spoilers for that story, and some of the characters/character developments might seem strange, but it's up to you whether you want to just go ahead and start with this story._

 _DISCLAIMER: I don't own Transformers._

 _To those who read the previous story, welcome back! This story will focus mostly on Bumblebee, since the previous one focused more on his parents._

 _There is mention of an alcoholic drink in this chapter, but rest assured it is responsible drinking. No alcoholism here, kiddos!_

 _Enjoy!_

* * *

Bumblebee looked up from the storybook he was reading as he heard his father curse in Cybertronian. Through their strong bond, Bumblebee felt a flash of irritation from the Prime. Simultaneously, from the other half of Bumblebee's mental bond, he felt a brief amusement from his mother, followed by a stronger sense of annoyance.

"I know you did not just waste all those shrimp I peeled by throwing them into the floor due to some bout of clumsiness, my librarian," Ratchet said, leaning against the counter near where Optimus was working. Her tone was teasing but Bumblebee felt an undercurrent of emotion that betrayed his mother's temper, shimmering deep down inside her.

Unlike with the other Cybertronian children in the scrapyard – Strongarm, Sideswipe, and Smokescreen (who technically wasn't a child anymore, but both his parents were here) – Bumblebee knew he had an unusually strong telepathic connection to his parents. Most kids his age, five years old, would just now be learning how to communicate via telepathy, but Bumblebee had been communicating with his mind since he was just a few months old. This was most likely due to the damage to his vocal cords he had been born with, due to a Megatron-induced injury Ratchet had sustained while she was pregnant with him.

Whatever the case, Bumblebee was constantly getting fed two streams of telepathic input – one from Ratchet, one from Optimus. Most of the time, it was just emotions, especially if he was close to them, and if he focused hard enough, Bumblebee could send thoughts or even images to his parents. They, too, could respond in this manner, though Bumblebee knew they didn't experience the continuous stream of emotional input from him that he picked up on from them. In fact, what Bumblebee felt from both of them, they only felt from one another.

Windblade and Drift took this information to mean that Bumblebee had strong telepathic powers, like the late Soundwave. Bumblebee took the information to mean that his parents could never hide anything from him.

Optimus cleared his throat. "Well, not all of them, sweetspark."

"I thought all of the clumsiness had abandoned you when you became Optimus Prime," Ratchet said. Bumblebee felt a curl of mischievousness as she added, "Orion Pax."

"I don't answer to that name anymore, no more than you answer to Liaison," Optimus chided.

Ratchet huffed. "I'm going to get some crackers. I guess our gumbo will just have fewer shrimp than it was originally going to have."

Bumblebee went back to reading. The book was in English, a birthday present from Miko and Jack, and he liked the story, though a red dog the size of a house was rather absurd. Bumblebee preferred the stories in his father's datapads – Cybertronian texts detailing the war between Autobots and Decepticons – and the tales his mother told him – she switched a lot between Cybertronian and English when she told them, grand tales of heroic and villainous Primes and good and evil deities.

"Optimus, are these unsalted Saltine crackers? Who buys these jokes of crackers?" Ratchet cried.

"Um, Nurse Darby, I believe," Optimus replied.

Ratchet hurmped. "How am I supposed to – oh, hello, Knock Out." The last part was directed toward Knock Out, who had indeed entered the kitchen of Denny's scrapyard headquarters.

Knock Out fascinated Bumblebee, simply because every time she did something nice for somebody, she always had a shallow reason behind it. Like when she had gotten Bumblebee's jacket for him because he'd left it in his room, but then told him she'd just gotten the jacket to cover his hideous shirt.

The redhead began rummaging through the cabinet containing the cups, reaching toward the very back. As far as Bumblebee knew, only baby bottles were back there. Why Knock Out would want one was beyond him, since Strongarm hadn't used a bottle in ages.

"Hello, Ratchet, Prime," Knock Out commented off-handedly, like she was just automatically responding without putting any actual emotion into her words.

"What are you looking for?" Ratchet asked, straightening her glasses. "We are trying to cook dinner here." Bumblebee knew she was hinting for Knock Out to get out of the way.

Knock Out didn't get the hint, or, more likely, she ignored it. She snorted and said, "Who needs dinner when you have wine." She pulled out a glass with a thin stem.

"Oh, no way are you making your entire meal wine," Ratchet snapped, jerking the wineglass out of Knock Out's hand, ignoring as her friend began to pout. "Besides, when was the last time you had energon? You know you have to ingest energon, even if you are consuming human food. Wine is not a substitute for energon. You should know this, given your medical degree."

"Don't mock my medical degree," Knock Out retorted. "I went to the same prestigious academy you did – we were in the same class. And, if you must know, I had some energon this morning. Now, today is the Fourth of July, and while I'm not an American or even an Earthling, I intend to celebrate, thank you." She plucked the wineglass from Ratchet's hand and exited the kitchen with a flounce.

Ratchet frowned. "Good riddance. That woman – if she cares so much about fashion and looking good, surely she should realize that nothing is more attractive than a healthy individual."

"Ratchet, we talked about your being so judgmental," Optimus said, putting a hand on her shoulder.

"Right, of course." Flicking a strand of strawberry blonde hair over her shoulder, Ratchet turned to Bumblebee. "Bee, why don't you go outside and make sure that Miko and Wheeljack aren't planning anything explosive? I know it's the Fourth, but…well, I don't need Fixit's wheelchair to catch on fire, like last year."

Bumblebee smiled, recalling that chaotic moment. It had actually been pretty funny, watching the Mini-Con wheel back and forth screaming bloody murder while the large, black wheels of his wheelchair smoldered. There hadn't been any actual flames, but Fixit had still – and rightfully – panicked. Grimlock had plucked Fixit out of the wheelchair, while Jack and Raf had hosed down the rubber wheels. Miko and Wheeljack had gotten a lecture on firework safety from Ratchet, Ultra Magnus, and Denny, while Sideswipe, Smokescreen, and Russell had roared with laughter.

Ratchet, however, knew what Bumblebee was smiling about. "No, it wasn't funny. Now go outside and join the others."

Waving goodbye to his parents, Bumblebee hurried outside to the back of the scrapyard near Fixit's crashed ship, the _Alchemor_ , where the others were gathering.

Denny was proudly showing off an invention of his to Fixit, who didn't look impressed when Denny's back was turned, but smiled encouragingly and cheerily when Denny turned to him. June and Fowler were also listening to Denny; June with a polite expression, while Fowler frowned as if wondering what would happen when Denny's invention malfunctioned. Since Denny, Fowler, and June were humans, their minds were unreachable to Bumblebee, but Ratchet had made sure everyone had been taught sign language so Bumblebee could still communicate with them.

Fixit, however, Bumblebee could communicate with telepathically, though he tended to avoid it. With all Cybertronains that weren't his parents, Bumblebee had to actually reach out to their minds, but then he could talk to them, though their emotions were lost to him. Talking to Fixit via telepathy was a dizzying experience. His mind worked on so many levels, that while he would be sending one message, a background message would come with it. It explained why the others only verbally communicated with Fixit as much as possible, while Bumblebee preferred to use sign language to communicate with the engineer and former prison warden.

Windblade was sitting on the ground on a blanket next to Drift. Drift's Mini-Cons, a wolf named Slipstream and his brother Jetstorm, were lying behind them. Animal-former Mini-Cons like the wolf brothers could only communicate with the Cybertronian they had picked as their teacher/master, that being Drift. Bumblebee could sense their mental presence and could tell they were Mini-Cons rather than Earth animals – who had no mental presence that Bumblebee could sense – though he wasn't capable of sending or receiving messages from the Mini-Cons.

Knock Out was sitting in a lawn chair next to her husband, Ultra Magnus. Strongarm was playing in the dirt before them with a toy police truck, but the four-year-old stopped when she realized Bumblebee had arrived. Wheeljack was showing off her impressive stack of fireworks to Bulkhead. Her husband looked like he was torn between telling Wheeljack she was a moron for having so many explosives, or giddily clapping and telling her to light them. Grimlock was studying the fireworks, smiling broadly at the prospect of blowing them up; the Dinobot was a fan of destruction, whether it came about via brute force or explosions.

Smokescreen was acting as a referee for a game of bad mitten between the younger citizens of the scrapyard. On one side of the net were Jack and Raf, while on the other were Miko and Sideswipe. Raf was an interesting case in the sense that Bumblebee, and other Cybertronians, could communicate with him via telepathy. He had no detectable mental presence, like with all Earth fauna, so it felt like sending messages into the void. Only this void talked back, unlike the other voids.

Strongarm rushed over to Bumblebee, smiling. Her blue eyes were bright with excitement, and her blonde hair curled over her shoulder in a tight braid. Knock Out had clipped a blue-and-white bow to her temple, but Bumblebee could tell Strongarm didn't like the bow by the way she kept jerking her head whenever the bow grazed her forehead.

"Look at what Father got me!" She proudly held up the toy police truck. "The lights even flash when you press this button on the hood." She jabbed her finger into an indention in the center of the hood and the red and blue lights on top of the cab flashed.

 _Cool. Can I see it?_ Bumblebee asked via telepathy. Strongarm had just started using her mental presence and he was grateful he didn't have to sign since telepathy was faster.

Strongarm hesitated. "Fine, but don't break it. Or give it to Sideswipe." Sideswipe was Strongarm's thirteen-year-old half-brother, and it seemed his goal to annoy Strongarm to death.

Bumblebee nodded in promise and smiled in thanks when Strongarm handed the toy to him. He himself had plenty of toys, but there was always something exciting about the prospect of a new toy.

He set down and began rolling the truck around, but quickly grew bored. Feeling a flash of mischievousness, he rolled the truck as hard as he could into Strongarm's foot.

"Hey! You promised you'd be careful," she yelped. "And that hurt. Ouch!"

 _Did not!_ Bumblebee accented his taunt with his tongue, which he stuck out to make a face.

With a growl, Strongarm tackled him. Pretty soon, they were both rolling on the ground, wrestling. This had been Bumblebee's goal all along, since Strongarm was the only person he could fairly wrestle with. The adults ignored him, and the older kids took it way too easy on him. Jetstorm and Slipstream often wrestled with Bumblebee, but this always ended with one of the wolves lying on top of Bumblebee in victory. At least with Strongarm, Bumblebee had a chance of winning.

They hadn't been wrestling long when Bumblebee felt a pair of hands grab his waist. He sent a rush of protest via a mental burst, but his mother ignored him as she rather ungracefully deposited him on the ground away from Strongarm. Ratchet stood between them, hands held out in case she had to grab a child.

"And just what do you think you two are doing?" she asked.

Strongarm's hair bow was askew and she plucked it out of her hair. Glowering at Bumblebee, she mumbled, "We were fighting."

"Why?" Ratchet asked.

 _Jetstorm and Slipstream fight all the time,_ Bumblebee told her.

"Are you telling me you are no more civilized than a pair of wolves?" Ratchet was selling the Mini-Con brothers short with that statement, but she was quick to move on. "The two of you better be on your best behavior for the rest of the night, or I'll let Ultra Magnus break up the next fight."

"No, please, not Daddy!" Strongarm cried, while Bumblebee waved his hands wildly to express that it was not necessary to drag Ultra Magnus into this.

"Alright. Optimus brought dinner, so let's go eat. Oh, one more thing."

Bumblebee paused, wondering what his mother had up her sleeve. The strawberry blonde produced two glow sticks – one yellow and one blue – and smiled as she passed them to Bumblebee and Strongarm.

"Thanks, Ratchet," Strongarm gushed.

Bumblebee hugged his mother's legs, sending her a burst of gratitude and love through their mental connection. Ratchet chuckled and ruffled Bumblebee's blond hair.

"You better get in line before Fowler gets all the gumbo," Ratchet told them, shooing them on ahead of her.

Bumblebee rushed over to the table, where his father was sitting out empty bowls for everyone to use, putting a spoon in each of them. Optimus smiled down at Bumblebee as he skidded to a stop in front of him, proudly waving his yellow glow stick.

"I see your mother handled the situation properly," he commented, clearly amused, as the others gathered around. He turned his attention to Fowler as the former Army Ranger muttered, "Most Americans celebrate the Fourth with hamburgers and hot dogs, not gumbo."

"Most Americans aren't celebrating with Cybertronians, or have energon on the serving table, dear," June said, pointing at the energon cubes stacked on one corner of the table. "Besides, it's been a while since Ratchet and Optimus cooked, so I'm just happy I didn't have to."

Bumblebee turned to Knock Out as she smiled down at her daughter, who was waving around her blue glow stick. "What's that there? Did Ratchet actually do something nice for once?"

"Hey!" Ratchet protested.

Optimus wrapped a hand around her waist and pulled her close. "Don't mind her. I know you're very kind."

Ratchet raised an eyebrow incredulously. "The first time we met, I insulted you."

"Yes, but you were so beautiful, it made your insult a thing of heavenly song," Optimus said. He kissed her temple before Ratchet turned her head to turn it into a full kiss. Bumblebee gagged, the feeling of love overwhelming his sensory inputs.

"Jesus, get a room, you two!" Miko called.

Ratchet whipped her head around to look at the Japanese girl. "If the groundbridge wasn't broken, I'd send you back to Tokyo for your parents to deal with you." She glared at Fixit.

"I head – bed – _said_ I'd fix the groundbridge," he protested. "Which is only fair, considering I broke it in the first place, but, to be fair, how was I supposed to know that –"

"Just fix it, Fixit," Wheeljack interrupted. "Hey, this gumbo is pretty good." The explosives expert jammed another spoonful into her mouth.

"I always thought there was more shrimp in gumbo," Bulkhead added.

Bumblebee snickered as Ratchet punched Optimus's arm in mock anger.

"Jeez, Miko was right. You two do need to get a room," Jack teased.

"I'll ship you to Tokyo with Miko, Jack," Ratchet warned. "It's about time you met your future in-laws."

Jack blushed, while Miko leaned over to kiss her boyfriend's cheek. She giggled as she pulled back, clearly envisioning Jack meeting her parents.

"You wouldn't," Jack said. "Mom wouldn't let you."

"If it'll teach the boy some manners, do it, Ratchet," June said. She and Ratchet high-fived as Jack sputtered incomprehensibly.

"How's your day going, Bee?" Raf asked, ruffling Bumblebee's hair.

Bumblebee turned to the fifteen-year-old and dropped his glow stick to sign. _It is going. Wheeljack set off fireworks soon?_

 _When it gets dark,_ Raf signed back. _Are you excited?_ He signed the letter symbols for 'are' and 'you' (R and U), but Bumblebee understood what he meant.

 _Very!_ He accented the exclamation point by signing out the four letters that spelled 'very' in a rapid and large manner.

"Oh, Strongarm, what happened to your bow?" Knock Out cried, drawing Bumblebee's attention. Knock Out's voice was high and just drew attention to the redhead whenever she spoke, which was probably fine by her.

"I lost it," Strongarm grumped. "I don't like it anyway."

"But it's so charming!" Knock Out turned to Sideswipe. "Tell your sister she looks pretty with the bow."

Sideswipe sniffed. "You can't fix ugly."

"Sideswipe!" Ultra Magnus scolded, shooting a disapproving look at his stepson. "Take that back and apologize. Then do as your mother told you."

Sideswipe grit his teeth, and Bumblebee was sure he was going to resist or spout off another insult. Then he mumbled, in barely eligible words, "Sorry I called you ugly, Strongarm, even if it is true. You look pretty with the bow in your hair because Mom says so."

Ultra Magnus and Knock Out exchanged looks, but evidently decided that was as close to an apology as Sideswipe was going to get. Sideswipe bounded off to talk to Grimlock, and Knock Out sent Strongarm to get a juice box.

Bumblebee smiled as he heard Fowler complaining again. "I don't know why I introduced Earth holidays to these Cybertronians. They just ruin them anyway, like this past Christmas." He shot a look at Wheeljack.

"The pine needles were making my eyes water and burn," she protested. "That tree deserved to burn!"

"And the plastic Santa?"

"He was so cheery, all the time, smiling way to broadly," Wheeljack said. "He was so happy, it was irritating, so I burned him."

"That Santa was a collectible," Denny moaned. Russell patted his father's arm to comfort him as he recalled his loss.

Bumblebee turned back to Raf, only to find that his unofficial-but-practically-adopted-human-brother was in the process of defending his bowl of gumbo from Slipstream and Jetstorm. Bumblebee wondered why Drift wasn't reining in his Mini-Cons like usual, but then he realized that Drift was distracted by Windblade, who was retelling some tale about the time she had spoken to Primus himself.

An alarm went off in the _Alchemor_ and the screen flared to life in a covered but outdoor section that was the base of operations for the Cybertronians in the scrapyard. Here, they could keep track of all the Cybetronians on Earth and could tell when one – an aspiring Decepticon or just a troublemaker – was on a rampage. The Cybertronians claiming loyalty to the Decepticons had dwindled to a few since the end of the war and Starscream's departure with most of the Decepticon force, but they still remained, occasionally causing trouble.

Bumblebee pushed his way to the front to stand beside Fixit and Strongarm, who had also muscled through the crowd to get a clear view of the screen.

"Who do I get to hit?" Grimlock asked, pounding a fist into his palm

"Maybe no one," Fixit replied. "It isn't a Decepticon activity warning, or even Cybertronian nativity – festivity – _activity_. Well, not Cybertronians on Earthy, anyway."

Bumblebee looked up at the screens. He didn't know what the warnings meant, but he realized that something was coming. A tension was building in the gathered crowd, a sense of anxiety of the unknown. Bumblebee felt a rush of calm and resolve from his father, while his mother's bond was muted as she reined her emotions in, pulling them in close.

"Optimus!"

Ratchet hadn't walked onto the _Alchemor_ with the others and was instead looking toward the sunset, her blue-green eyes hidden by the harsh reflection of light in her glasses. Optimus, too, had remained back, standing at the base of the ramp where he could hear the others, and he rejoined her, standing by her side to look at the horizon.

"Why, it's already here. Its cloaking must be very high-tech," Fixit said, sounding impressed.

"What's coming, Fixit?" Smokescreen asked.

Bumblebee looked back at the scrapyard. Jetstorm and Slipstream had climbed a small pile of junk to get a higher vantage point. Drift and Windblade were standing at the bottom of the ramp leading up the platform on the _Alchemor_ where the others were. Wheeljack and Bulkhead joined them. Jack, Miko, Raf, and Russell were all pointing at a single point in the sunset.

"Fixit, who is it?" Knock Out asked. She was twirling a small rod in her fingers that Bumblebee had never seen before and he wondered what it was.

"I don't bow – show – _know_ ," Fixit replied.

Ultra Magnus and Knock Out shared a look, clearly unnerved. Bumblebee reached out toward his parents and was immediately confronted with a hard wall of bravery, forced calm, and countless other emotions that Bumblebee had only felt the few times his parents had fought Decepticons since his birth.

At this point, Bumblebee could see and hear what had everyone so rapt.

Living up to the nickname Sideswipe had given him (that being Captain Obvious), Fixit needlessly said, "It's a Cybertronian trip – chip – _ship_."

* * *

"What are you doing? Come back this way!"

Starscream shrugged Steve's hands off her. "Get your family and get out of here. I'll deal with whatever this is."

"Queen Starscream, please!" Steve begged. "All the halls are aflame in that direction. You must leave."

"Go, Steve. Don't worry about me," Starscream told him. "Besides, you have the Liaison with you, so it doesn't matter what happens to me."

She nodded at Steve's wife, Charlotte, Cybertron's Liaison. Charlotte's scarred hands were currently clutching the hands of two children: her and Steve's daughter, Evelyn, and her and Steve's adopted son, Stephen.

"Good luck to you, Starscream," Steve breathed.

"Stay safe," Starscream replied. She waited just long enough to make sure Steve was actually escorting his family away before she continued on her way, toward where the bomb had initially gone off.

The attack was on her palace, which had just been built over where the High Council Chamber had once stood. Starscream had been torn between making her home in the ruins of Vos, the old Seeker hometown, or Iacon, the old capital. In the end, she'd decided on Iacon and much of the rebuilding had been on Iacon structures.

Starscream hurried around a corner and stopped short. She was in a large room used for gatherings – either social events, or meetings between Starscream herself and larger individuals…like the ursagryph and dragon currently ripping the place to shreds. Arcee was held between two of Starscream's Seeker guards, who were most likely trying to stop the former Autobot from killing herself by battling Skylynx and Darksteel, though the woman was oddly persistent in her want to battle, continually thrashing about in the guards' grasp.

Starscream, however, narrowed her focus to the man standing in front of her with his back to her, watching as Skylynx and Darksteel tore the room apart. He was tall – eight feet, to be exact – with brown, leathery skin and black hair that looked like it hadn't been washed in ages tumbled down his back in greasy dreads. He was dressed in copper and gold robes, and a spiky, golden crown glinted in his hair.

"Predaking, we had a deal!" Starscream yelled, marching forward.

The man turned, large muscles rippling under his skin. His golden eyes were alight with the fire of war.

Starscream had worked hard to form a peaceful agreement with the Predacon king (politics was not his strong suit). Predaking would reign over his Predacons, and Starscream would reign over all the other Cybertronians as the Queen of Cybertron. The agreement was simple: Predacons didn't hurt Starscream's Cybertronians, and Starscream's Cybertronians didn't hurt Predacons.

"What is the meaning of this, Predaking?" Starscream asked, stilling moving toward him. "My people haven't broken the agreement. Why are you burning my palace?"

Predaking swatted her. The hit was jarring, and Starscream slid across the floor before she finally stopped. Fire laced throughout her chest, and she was sure Predaking had broken at least one rib. Slag those Predacons and their strength!

"I am a king!" Predaking roared, exposing his pointed teeth. "I don't answer to a queen."

Starscream pushed herself to her feet, her wings flaring out behind her. She could see now that this wasn't about the agreement. This was about control, and Predaking was removing Starscream from the equation. The Seeker glanced over at Arcee, only to see the guards dragging her away as she fought to break from their grasps, and she realized Arcee was a hostage.

"Let her go!" Starscream ordered.

For the first time since the end of the war, her orders were ignored. The guards and Arcee disappeared out an exit on the other side of the room.

She turned to Predaking. Skylynx and Darksteel were no longer tearing the place apart, but were moving up beside their king.

Starscream pulled a long, silver dagger from her belt. She felt a twinge of regret that she hadn't been sparring any to stay in top fighting shape. "Who are you working for?"

"I work for no one!" Words turned to roars as Predaking's entire mass grew. His elaborate robes became wings, and his muscles expanded. His skin grew scales and his nails grew out into claws. His face elongated and his teeth grew into large fangs.

Starscream dodged the blast of fire that came from Predaking's mouth, slid under a swat from his paw, and sprang to her feet. Soaking in the rush of battle, Starscream found herself thinking she might actually win a fight against the Predacon as she faced Predaking's now exposed side.

Something hard slammed into her, sending her skidding across the floor again. Her dagger skittered away, and her silver circlet rolled across the floor. Starscream cursed herself for forgetting about Predaking's tail as the Predacon turned to her. Without hesitation, he slammed a paw down over her, leaving room for her head to poke out between his claws. He opened his mouth, flames flickering deep in his maw.

Starscream heard wing beats, and just happened to glimpse dark blue and yellow wings. She heard a weapon being drawn, and heard Skylynx and Darksteel hiss, as though uncertain how to approach this new addition to the party.

"Predaking, let her go," Dreadwing ordered.

* * *

Bumblebee followed Fixit, keeping his eyes trained on the wheelchair in front of him, trying to ignore the numb feeling creeping over him. This wasn't right, something was wrong, something was gone, and nothing would be right again.

The scrapyard was a mess, and whatever organization Denny had had was gone. Bumblebee didn't want to go back toward the _Alchemor_ , where it had happened, but Ratchet had told him to stay with Fixit, and Fixit was going to the _Alchemor_ , so Bumblebee was going to the _Alchemor_.

Slipstream and Jetstorm slunk out of the darker shadows and joined Fixit and Bumblebee. Both of them licked Fixit's face, ignoring his protests, and then they began circling around Bumblebee, whining. Slipstream was limping, and Bumblebee could see his left forepaw was swollen. Occasionally, Jetstorm nosed at that limb as if to ask his brother how bad the injury was.

Fixit and Bumblebee rounded a newly formed crater, Slipstream and Jetstorm following, and found everyone who was…left.

The humans – June, Fowler, Jack, Miko, Raf, Denny, and Russell – were clustered together under the wing of Windblade's jet. Raf looked at Bumblebee sadly, as did Jack and Denny, but the others mostly ignored him. Fowler was scowling at the dark sky, while Jack, Miko, and Russell were talking amongst themselves.

Windblade and Drift were standing alone, and Slipstream and Jetstorm ran over to their master. Drift's expression didn't change, but Bumblebee could tell he was relieved to see the Mini-Cons by the way he patted the tops of their heads.

Grimlock was standing near them, Sideswipe and Strongarm clustered around him. Despite his brave look, Bumblebee knew Sideswipe was just as fearful and stressed as Bumble was by the way he clutched his little sister's hand in his own. Strongarm just looked confused, and she waved with her glow stick, which she somehow hadn't lost in the chaos. Bumblebee's yellow glow stick had shattered, and the glowing yellow goo was splattered around on the ground near the overturned food table.

"Fixit, Bumblebee!" Windblade rushed over, clearly relieved to see them. She ruffled Fixit's hair and then reached for Bumblebee and patted his head before pulling him into a hug. Bumblebee wiggled out of her grasp and Windblade went back to fussing over Fixit, straightening his glasses.

"What now?" Jack asked.

"Optimus gave us orders and we'll follow them," Drift intoned. He was crouched down in front of Slipstream, checking his injured paw.

Bumblebee set down right where he was, feeling off-kilter. The emotions raging inside him were his and his alone. Those in-depth emotions he always sensed that weren't his were gone, empty.

For the first time, there was no input from Ratchet and Optimus.

And Bumblebee had never felt more alone.

* * *

 **I'm so evil, hehe. Or am I? Just stick with me. Everything ties together...eventually.**

 **NOTE: I originally planned this scene out months ago, and the earliest draft included that fact that this celebration would take place on the Fourth of July. I'm actually super excited that this post was uploaded the same week as the Fourth.** **Coincidence? I think not!**

 **Review if you want! See you next post.**


	2. Chapter 2

Bumblebee's dream started out normally. Just a reimagining of a recent sparring match with Drift, except this time, Bumblebee won. Then Bumblebee was no longer in the scrapyard or fighting Drift, but Steeljaw, and the match was no longer a practice spar.

Steeljaw snarled, exposing his fang-like teeth, since he was in his limbo form, with human and wolf characteristics. His wolf ears swiveled above his head, and his thick, shaggy tail whipped as he slashed at Bumblebee with his claws. Bumblebee couldn't dodge quickly enough, and he gasped in pain as Steeljaw's claws dug deep into his upper arm, ripping long and deep gashes.

He stumbled back, clamping a hand down on the worst part of the wound, surprised when Steeljaw didn't press his advantage. Instead, the Decepticon crouched and snarled again. Bumblebee jumped as someone touched his shoulder and he spun around, only to come face-to-face with his mother.

Bumblebee was so stunned, he couldn't sign or even telepathically say anything, but Ratchet didn't look pleased to see him. She looked just the same she had the day she had been taken, the same outfit and everything, but there was something dark in her eyes.

"You call yourself the son of Optimus?" she sneered. Her words stabbed through Bumblebee's heart, her voice, something he recalled fondly, speaking such harsh words. "What son of a Prime allows himself to be injured by such a puny Decepticon wanna-be?"

Ratchet turned and threw one of her silver daggers. Steeljaw howled as it sank into his abdomen. He shattered, as though he were made of glass. Ratchet turned to glare at Bumblebee again.

"What's wrong with you? Answer me!" she ordered.

 _This isn't real_ , Bumblebee signed.

Ratchet leered. "Use your voice, boy, or don't bother speaking at all."

The scene changed again. Bumblebee was younger now, twelve, and he was frozen, staring at a city in ruins. Somehow, he recognized it as Jasper, a city he had barely seen, and he realized he had allowed its destruction. His legs almost gave out as he realized that Raf was gone, as well as the others. He could see Windblade's jacket, coated in dust and energon, and Strongarm's hairbow.

"What have you done?"

Bumblebee spun around to see his father. Unlike Ratchet, he didn't appear angry or spiteful, but just disappointed and grieved.

 _I didn't…I couldn't stop the Decepticons_ , Bumblebee told him telepathically.

"You're my son, Bumblebee. You should be able to lead better, to make better decisions. Your mother and I worked hard to end the war, to make peace between the Autobots and Decepticons. And here you are, fighting another group of Cybertronians under the Decepticon banner. How could you dishonor the legacy of your parents so?"

Bumblebee struggled to get his fingers to move to sign correctly, unable to sort through his emotions enough to telepathically communicate. _I'm not dishonoring you. I'm trying to subdue Steeljaw's pack, but I can't. I'm not you!_

"No, you're not," Optimus agreed, his expression nothing but pure disappointment. "If you were more like me, Earth would be at peace once more."

The dream changed again, to another memory, that dreaded Fourth of July that changed everything. Ratchet was pulling Bumblebee along, and he could feel her fear – her fear for him. Behind them, he could hear the sounds of fighting, of voices ordering that Team Prime be captured. Optimus's emotions were lost to Bumblebee, which worried him, but he knew his father was still alive, because he could hear him rallying the others.

Ratchet crouched down beside a pile of broken wooden pallets. The pallets were the remnants of a fort Fixit had built for Bumblebee and Strongarm, and Bumblebee could see Fixit in there now, looking out at Ratchet and Bumblebee.

Bumblebee turned to his mother. His attention was drawn by a single strand of gray hair next to his mother's face and he felt a sudden flash of panic – his mother couldn't be old, could she? He hugged her, afraid of losing her.

Ratchet hugged him back. He could feel her love for him, washing over him. "I need you to be strong, Bumblebee. Stay with Fixit and do what he tells you, no matter what."

She pulled back from the hug, forcibly removing Bumblebee's fingers from around her neck. Bumblebee could see the tears in her eyes, could feel the loss battling inside her with her love.

"You have to stay with Fixit, Bumblebee," she said. She kissed the top of his head. "I will always be proud of you – don't you forget it. I will always love you, too."

She passed Bumblebee to Fixit, ignoring as he reached back for her. She was crying now, tears tracing down her cheeks. Bumblebee had never seen his mother cry before, and that scared him.

 _I love you,_ Bumblebee sent telepathically. Ratchet was moving, running back toward the others. She shouted a name that Bumblebee didn't recognize, couldn't quite understand.

An armored man appeared beside her, grabbing at her. Bumblebee struggled to get to his mother, but Fixit pulled him back into his lap, wheeling deeper into the shadows of the lopsided pallet fort. As Ratchet was overpowered by the dark-skinned man, her emotional input disappeared, leaving Bumblebee alone with only his emotions.

Bumblebee jerked awake, rolling out of the bed and falling onto the metal floor of the _Alchemor_ , where the Cybertronians had their rooms. The twenty-one-year-old groaned, kicking the sheets off him so he wouldn't be all tangled up when he stood – he didn't fancy a second fall.

Shaking away the panic set in by the dream, Bumblebee stood up, running a hand through his shaggy, blond hair. The dream was so confusing – Bumblebee was horrified by the imagined anger and disappointment of his parents, and he was grieved by the reminder of that night sixteen years ago, when his parents had been taken, as well as the other members of Team Prime. Pushing away all the emotions, Bumblebee changed into a yellow T-shirt, a black jacket, and jeans before exiting his room

Non-surprisingly, he was the last to wake, since the nights he had vivid dreams he always overslept. He walked into the main room of the _Alchemor_ and was immediately confronted by Fixit.

"Good morning, Sir," he beamed. "There's some energon on the fable – stable – _table_ for you."

 _Thank you, Fixit_ , Bumblebee replied, remembering at the last moment to sign. _What are you doing?_

"Just cleaning the vehicles again," he replied. "And seeing if Steeljaw or any of his associates show their faces again." He cheerily wheeled away, missing Bumblebee's wince as he recalled his dream.

Bumblebee sighed and grabbed a cube of energon before exiting the _Alchemor._ Fixit was happily spraying down Bumblebee's Urbana 500 with a water hose, while Denny stood by with a bucket of soapy water and a handful of rags. The time hadn't changed Denny much, aside from a few gray hairs here and there, mostly in his beard.

Fixit, who seemed practically ageless, looked the same, and his head injury-induced social problems had never been remedied. The engineer and de-facto medic since Ratchet's disappearance, he was a valuable member of the team despite his memory loss and so-called handicaps, which Bumblebee had never viewed as handicaps, perhaps because he was technically handicapped himself, though he'd never considered himself so.

He knew his parents had never believed him to be less than any of the others, especially given the love he had felt from them and the final orders Optimus had given Drift and Windblade. That was why Ratchet's comment in his dream bothered him so much, because he knew she wouldn't have ever said…or he liked to think she wouldn't have said it, but she, like the rest of Team Prime, had been gone for sixteen years and he was worried that maybe he hadn't known his parents as well as he had thought he had at five.

Sighing, Bumblebee walked down toward Fixit and Denny. Fixit waved in greeting again, as though he didn't recall wishing Bumblebee a good morning just a few moments ago. Denny smiled.

"Good morning, Bee," he said.

 _Morning. How's Rusty doing?_

"Rusty is fine," Denny replied. "He's really enjoying his archeological dig, though he hasn't found any other Cybertronian artifacts."

Russell had recently gone on an archeological dig in Greece and come across an energon harvester, which he had then had Bumblebee and Sideswipe retrieve. Whatever Russell had told the rest of his team, he hadn't been blamed for the disappearance of the harvester, but apparently it hadn't been that big of a deal.

Bumblebee nodded. He looked around and spotted Slipstream and Jetstorm panting as they set on either side of Drift as he meditated. Bumblebee had just recently learned that Fixit could actually communicate with the wolf brothers as all three of them were Mini-Cons, although they were different types of Mini-Cons. Deciding it would be best to leave Drift and the animal-former Mini-Cons to their morning meditation/break, Bumblebee finished off his energon and hurried toward the scrapyard entrance, hoping the others were in that direction.

Grimlock was toting around a large bag through the aisles, and when Bumblebee asked him what he was doing, he replied, "Gathering a few gifts to send to our away friends."

Bumblebee wasn't sure if Denny knew what the Dinobot was doing, but he did know that Denny would agree if he knew what Grimlock was doing, so he gave Grimlock the go-ahead, telling him he could send gifts to everyone but Russell, since he wouldn't appreciate some more junk from his father's scrapyard.

June and Fowler had moved back to Jasper, Nevada. June was working as a nurse again, and Fowler was retired. Jack and Miko now lived together in Tokyo, Japan. Jack was an English teacher at a high school, and Miko was teaching self-defense at a community college. They called occasionally, more so than June and Fowler. Raf was living in New York City, working for a tech company. Raf called the most, mostly using video chats so he could talk to Bumblebee, since telepathy with a human apparently didn't work so well at long distances.

Pushing aside such thoughts, Bumblebee waved at Sideswipe and Strongarm as they sparred. Sideswipe was now twenty-nine, though he often acted like he was still a teenager. Strongarm was twenty, though she often acted like she was as mature and put together as a thirty-year-old. Sideswipe's red hair was spiked up and he fought with one two-handed sword. His half-sister's blonde braid whipped as she spun around, daggers in hand; it was hand-to-hand combat only, or else she would have put the pistol clipped to her hip to use.

Windblade was nearby, resting on the hood of a Camaro chassis. Her golden tiara glinted as she turned to look at Bumblebee, red eye makeup bright and accenting her bright, neon blue eyes. Her wings were untucked and spread out as if to soak up the coastal sun. Bumblebee made his way over to her, waving in greeting and sending a burst of happiness and warmth telepathically to accent his greeting.

After Team Prime had been captured and loaded onto that ship, Windblade and Drift had acted as the leaders of the Earth-based Cybertronians. The first order of business had been the legality of three orphans – Sideswipe, Strongarm, and Bumblebee himself. Fowler had quickly made up human documents for Strongarm and Bumblebee and they became Sydney Ulyanov and Benjamin Prime. Denny had been unable to become a legal guardian to any of them because of his recent divorce, but June and Fowler had been able to take Sideswipe and Strongarm. Bumblebee himself had been given Windblade as his legal guardian to appease human laws, though the raising of Strongarm and he had been a team effort.

 _Good morning, Windblade_ , Bumblebee sent telepathically.

"Morning, Bumblebee," Windblade replied with a small smile.

Optimus's final orders had apparently been for Windblade and Drift to groom Bumblebee for leadership. Once he turned sixteen, Windblade and Drift had started giving him more leading responsibilities, and once he turned eighteen, they had formally passed the leadership to him and the team had been dubbed Team Bee. Bumblebee's main focus was taking out a Decepticon named Steeljaw and his "pack."

Windblade's expression turned serious as Sideswipe rushed off, calling insults over his shoulder to Strongarm, who chased after him, demanding he stand still long enough for her to deck him. The siblings argued so much, neither Bumblebee or Windblade bothered to do anything as they disappeared among the aisles.

"Did you dream about that night again?" she asked.

Bumblebee nodded. He trusted Windblade and knew that whatever he told her, she would never repeat. _I know Team Prime was arrested for war crimes, but…what exactly do you think the punishment was?_ After a moment, he added his worst fear. _Execution?_

He stood still, barely daring to breathe, as he waited for Windblade's answer. He'd always wanted to go after his parents, but Optimus had left orders to never go after them or return to Cybertron to complain to the government about the war crimes charged against Team Prime and the forceful removal of them from their home. He'd always wondered what had happened to his parents and his friends, but he'd always been afraid of knowing. He knew the others didn't know for sure, but he wanted to hear Windblade's opinion.

"Wheeljack and Bulkhead weren't high-ranking officers, just soldiers. They probably just got imprisonment. The same for Smokescreen, since he was a child most of the war and had just recently become involved in battles," she said finally, speaking slowly. "Ultra Magnus…I'm not sure. Knock Out was a Decepticon, so she was most likely executed for those war crimes, especially if Autobots are being accused of war crimes. As for your parents…Bee, Optimus and Ratchet were the driving force of the Autobots. If anybody was going to be accused of war crimes to make a point, it would be those two."

Bumblebee felt a flood of loss and despair. _Execution, then._

Windblade gave him a pitying look, which immediately made Bumblebee feel annoyed. He'd always secretly known that his parents were most likely dead – he'd just never heard anyone say it out loud.

"I'm sorry, Bumblebee," she said. "I can't imagine that any other punishment would even be considered for Ratchet and Optimus."

 _But my parents were good people!_

"Yes, but they were also war leaders," Windblade reminded him. "You've read Optimus's texts – you know the decisions they had to make. Why, the Cybertronian government could have Optimus and Ratchet executed for Yuss alone."

That name brought Bumblebee up short. He'd never once encountered it while reading through his father's accounts of the war, though Optimus's texts focused more on the final days of Cybertronian battles and the battles on Earth.

 _Yuss?_ Bumblebee asked.

"A small town on Cybertron," Windblade explained. "In the beginning of the war, Megatron sent in Starscream and several other troops to destroy the town to make a statement. Optimus sent out an Autobot team to defend the city and its citizens, Ratchet and Optimus included as well as Optimus's closest friend, Jazz. But the Decepticon force was strong, and Starscream's Seekers had aerial superiority.

"Optimus called a retreat. Ratchet pulled back her medical team and equipment. Yuss was completely destroyed and every single citizen was killed – man, woman, and child. Pulling back and leaving citizens in harm's way…most would call that a war crime, especially since your mother pulled back most of Yuss's medical supplies when her team left. Whether or not they intended to, your parents virtually left Yuss to the Decepticons, and all the murders that followed rested on them."

Bumblebee felt like the ground underfoot was shifting. Never before had he heard this story, never before had he heard something that painted his parents as the monsters. In Optimus's accounts, the hard decisions and the losses had been heavily gaged against the gains – Bumblebee could see no gain in leaving the citizens of Yuss to the brutality of the Decepticons.

Even so, he felt like his parents hadn't done what they had done with the intention of inflicting pain. _They must have had their reasons._

"I'm not saying Optimus needs to be judged for his decisions, because Optimus always made the best decision for the circumstance," Windblade told him. "But just decisions could be used against him as war crimes, and Ratchet, too, because of her ties to Optimus and the fact that they were the dual figurehead of the Autobots."

Bumblebee began pacing. Windblade watched him, saying nothing. _I wish we could have gone after them._

"Optimus wanted you here, to continue to bring peace to Earth."

 _I haven't done so well at that. Steeljaw and his pack are still rampaging with their intent to take over Earth._

"I once asked Drift why young Cybertronians such as Steeljaw would take up the old Decepticon mantle," Windblade said. "Why do you choose to be a follower of Autobot ideals, Bumblebee?"

 _Because they're the right ideals._

"Beyond that."

 _Because my parents…I guess. Because I don't know any other ideals as extensively as I know Autobot ideals._

Windblade nodded. "And the same goes for Steeljaw and the other members of his pack. Only they didn't have tales of heroic Autobots to grow up hearing, but tales of Decepticon warriors. Maybe you and Steeljaw aren't as different as you think. Think like you always think, and you'll find yourself thinking like Steeljaw thinks."

With her piece of advice stated, Windblade jumped down from the Camaro frame and walked away, tucking her wings in close and pulling her red jacket on over them to hide them.

* * *

Steeljaw growled softly to himself, looking out over the ocean. The Decepticon had found an area of Crystal City that had been damaged in a hurricane and never rebuilt. An old parking garage near the beach made for a good headquarters for his Pack.

The young Decepticon leader was not in his limbo form, a form that most members of his Pack could take, but instead in his humanoid form. His dark hair was brushed back, and his light blue jacket was pulled tight to block out the chilly, ocean breeze. He turned and walked farther into the deeper shadows of the parking garage.

Abandoned cars made good sleeping places and hiding places for many of Steeljaw's Pack. Several members of the Pack dozed and didn't notice as Steeljaw passed, and those who happened to be awake either politely ignored him and offered a respectful nod.

Steeljaw paused as a female Decepticon stepped out in front of him. She was in her limbo form, her mouth and nose being more beak than anything else. Her arms were misshaped and covered in black, greasy feathers and her fingers were bony with swollen knuckles and talons rather than nails. Her red eyes were beady and she was dressed simply in a blue bedsheet, which she'd draped and wrapped around herself into a dress.

"Steeljaw," she croaked, bowing.

"Filch," Steeljaw greeted. His voice was polite, though he wasn't particularly happy to see her. Filch wasn't a strong fighter and was easily distracted by glittery objects, but she was useful for distracting the Autobots from Steeljaw's major plans.

"Have you heard the rumors?" Filch asked. Occasionally, her voice broke into a caw as she spoke.

"What rumors?" Steeljaw asked.

"A disturbance on the edge of the galaxy," she replied.

"What disturbance?" Steeljaw pressed. He couldn't tell if Filch was being vague because she was just that dumb or because she was purposely being annoying – based on other facts, he was willing to bet it was the former.

"The rumors speak of an unaligned disturbance, a hunter, neither a Decepticon or an Autobot."

"Are they associated with the Royalty of Cybertron?"

Filch shook her head uncertainly. "The rumors are not clear on this."

That made Steeljaw nervous. A Decepticon he could welcome into his Pack, an Autobot could be dealt with. The Royalty of Cybertron had a deal with Steeljaw that Earth would be left to him as long as he never attempted to go to Cybertron, but instead remain on Earth, so he wouldn't be worried if the Cybertronian causing the disturbance was affiliated with the Royalty of Cybertron.

"Thank you, Filch," he said.

Filch bowed again, cawing, and then stepped aside to let Steeljaw pass. Steeljaw met up with his closest associate, a dark-haired man with greased back hair and a sharp, purple tuxedo complete with a tie.

"Thunderhoof, have you heard anything about these rumors of a disturbance at the edge of the galaxy?" he asked.

Thunderhoof shrugged. "I've heard a little, but it doesn't sound concerning." He turned to Steeljaw. "Of more importance, how is our major plan going?"

"It's almost complete," Steeljaw replied, smiling broadly. He'd accidently slipped into his limbo form a bit, as his canine teeth were actual fangs now. "Tomorrow, we fire up the Omega Lock."

"And when the Autobots show up?" Thunderhoof asked.

Steeljaw appreciated the fact that Thunderhoof was not so disillusioned to assume that Bumblebee's team would not arrive to attempt to stop them from turning Earth's organic ground into the metallic ground of Cybertron.

"Then we kill them."

* * *

Bumblebee had been pacing back and forth in the scrapyard as the afternoon wore on, and he paused near the entranceway, his gaze locked on several yellowed sheets of paper with fading ink. The duct tape holding up the sheets was frayed. One sheet had fallen forward, the strip of duct tape at the top apparently having given up on its job, but the bottom piece still held the paper to the wall. Another sheet had been ripped in half, most likely by the wind or maybe a clumsy customer.

These pieces of paper had been there for over a decade, and Bumblebee rarely took notice of them. Today, however, the names and pictures underneath the words 'Have You Seen This Person?' were like a physical blow to his gut. All the air whooshed out of his lungs.

Smokescreen's face was ripped in half, and only the surname of his human codename – Wilhelm – was visible, though Bumblebee knew his fake name had been Seth. Next were Bruce Wilhelm and Wilma-Jaclyn Wilhelm – Bulkhead and Wheeljack. Wheeljack was smiling in every image of her they could find, so she seemed oddly cheerful to be on a missing poster.

Then came Magnus Ulyanov and Kesey Ottoman-Ulyanov – Ultra Magnus and Knock Out. Bumblebee recognized Strongarm's determined look in Ultra Magnus and Sideswipe's mischievousness in the curve of Knock Out's eyebrow. Her expression seemed to convey she was not pleased at the moment, but soon the tides would turn and she would be laughing at some poor peasant's fate.

Finally came the two that hit Bumblebee the hardest: Oliver Prime and Rachel Prime – Optimus and Ratchet. Bumblebee liked to believe that he got his strong features from Optimus, but he knew his quick wit came from Ratchet. He reached out to push Ratchet's sheet back up, since it was folded over.

She was smiling, but only just slightly, like something had been only mildly amusing. Her blue-green eyes and strawberry blonde hair looked just as Bumblebee remembered. Perhaps it was because she was his mother, but his memories of Ratchet resurfaced to haunt him more than anyone else's – though Optimus made a very close second. Recalling some of those happy early memories, Bumblebee felt his throat constrict, and his eyes began to sting.

"You okay?"

Bumblebee pulled back from the wall, and Ratchet's sheet folded over again. The young leader turned to face Denny, who had approached unnoticed.

 _I'm fine,_ Bumblebee signed, hoping Denny would leave it alone.

Denny didn't take the hint. "I miss them, too, you know."

 _Why do we even have these?_

"I couldn't very well tell human police officers not to worry about the fact that seven people had just disappeared because they were kidnapped by aliens, so we had to formerly act like they had all disappeared together. I had to put up the signs to appear helpful and unsuspicious," Denny explained.

 _It's been sixteen years. We should take these signs down_ , Bumblebee signed. He was emotionally frustrated, so he signed a little fast and it took a while for Denny to comprehend.

"I suppose we could," Denny said slowly. He sighed and ran a hand through his unruly hair. "I kind of kept the pictures up in the hope a Cybertronian would happen by and recognize them. Maybe they could at least tell us what happened to them. Knowing anything, even depressing news, would be better than knowing nothing."

Bumblebee said nothing, recalling his conversation with Windblade that very morning about who had most likely been killed for war crimes.

"Bee, you can take the posters down if you want," Denny continued. "Sixteen years is too long – no Cybertronians are coming. I'm going to rearrange the antique refrigerators."

Those poor refrigerators got rearranged whenever Denny was upset. They'd been moved hourly in the first few months after the others had been taken, then daily, then weekly, and now Denny only rearranged the refrigerators whenever the taken Cybertronians were spoken of.

Bumblebee turned back to the posters. He pulled Smokescreen's down first. He didn't just jerk the sheets down, but took his time, careful not to rip the fragile paper. In a way, he felt like he was being respectful to the people on the posters with the way he handled he sheets with utmost care.

He decided he would burn the posters instead of simply recycling them. It would be like a final send-off. He got a small fire going in a metal bucket and was surprised when Strongarm joined him.

"What are you doing, Bee?" she asked, throwing a wood scrap into the fire.

Bumblebee explained his thoughts and feelings as best he could. Sideswipe moseyed over at one point (and Bumblebee was glad he was signing to Strongarm so he didn't have to switch forms of communicate for multiple people). Much to the younger Cybertronian's surprise, Sideswipe didn't scoff at the idea, but actually looked rather intrigued. Drift, Windblade, Grimlock, and Fixit also joined them, Grimlock pushing Fixit's wheelchair in an act of kindness.

"That's a mighty fine idea," Windblade said when Bumblebee had finished. She met his gaze, letting on that she knew why Bumblebee had decided to perform a little memorial service.

"An honorable service for honorable warriors," Drift agreed. Jetstorm and Slipstream wagged their thick tails to show their support as Drift spoke.

"Would you mind if we helped?" Sideswipe asked. His voice was hesitant, but Bumblebee knew it was just because Sideswipe liked to avoid personal and emotional subjects.

Bumblebee smiled. He spoke telepathically this time – just to Sideswipe – his hands preoccupied picking up the posters. _Not at all._ For the benefit of the others, he shook his head.

Grimlock took Smokescreen's sheet. "You made fun of me a lot, but I guess I deserved it. At least I laughed. Thanks for the laughs." He threw the poster into the fire.

Fixit took Wheeljack's. "You had some really great engineering flies – byes – _ideas_. I'm still testing them out. Blow something up, Wheeljack."

Bulkhead's poster floated down into the fire, having been taken from Bumblebee by Drift. "You may have fought in an unorthodox fashion and rarely thought your plans through, but you fought bravely. It was an honor to fight alongside you."

Windblade tossed Ratchet's sheet into the flames. "There are no words to express how amazing this woman was and how much she inspired all of us – although sometimes she just scared us into submission. But anyone who could snag Optimus Prime is a fine lady, and I'm glad Bumblebee inherited his better qualities from you, Ratchet."

Sideswipe went next, setting Knock Out's poster ablaze. "Miss you, Mom. I hope the prison suits weren't gray. I know how much you hated that color." He choked up.

Strongarm patted his shoulder in comfort even as she tossed Ultra Magnus's sheet into the flames. "I miss you, Dad. I wish I had inherited your patience as well as your inability to break the rules. I'm staying strong, just like you always said I would. Guess I am strong in more than just my arm."

Bumblebee looked at the final missing poster, his father's face looking up at him. He let the paper go, and watched as flames began to consume it. He signed out his speech. _Dad, you were the best role model anyone could ever have. If I could be just half the leader you were, then the Autobots will be in good hands. I know you and Mom thought you had ended the conflicted, and I'm sorry Steeljaw is causing problems now, but we'll soon have him locked up and the peace you fought for will truly be realized. Dad, take care of Mom, wherever you are. I'll take care of my team._

"A fine speech, young Bumblebee," Drift murmured.

They gathered around the bucket, watching the flames dance in the gathering darkness of the evening in a respectful silence.


	3. Chapter 3

Bumblebee grinned despite himself when he saw the target. His aim had been spot on, his rounds hitting the bullseye every time. Beside him, Strongarm puffed her chest up with pride as she saw her target and how she had shot just as well as him.

"Ha, I'd like to see Sideswipe shoot that well," she said.

 _Sideswipe is better with a sword_ , Bumblebee reminded her telepathically as they weren't currently facing each other.

In fact, he could hear blades clashing as Sideswipe and Drift practiced together. Curious, he lowered his gun even as Strongarm went back to shooting and turned to look. Sideswipe was holding up on his own against Drift, despite the fact that he only had one sword, while Drift had two. Jetstorm and Slipstream were standing nearby, watching, but a hand signal from Drift, they began circling around, looking for an opening. Bumblebee debated warning Sideswipe, but then decided against it, as this was Drift's moment to teach.

Grimlock was standing between two aisles in his T-Rex form, the green scales a few shades darker than emerald green due to the shade he was hunkered down in. Windblade was sitting atop his head, watching Drift and Sideswipe spar. Occasionally, dark pink flickered around her hands, like she was contemplating summoning her psychic swords and joining in the mock battle. The odds were rarely one-on-one, anyway.

"Have you talked to any of the humans recently?" Sideswipe asked Bumblebee. "Besides Denny, of course."

 _I talked with Raf recently. He's thinking of coming down for a visit soon._

"I like Raf," Strongarm said with a nod. "He's actually willing to talk about my parents. I remember so little about them – a sound of their voice here, a certain color there. What about you, Bee? Do you remember your parents?"

* * *

Bumblebee sighed sadly. He glanced toward the back of the _Alchemor_ , ignoring Fixit as he scrambled around doing who-knows-what, and could barely make out the tarped vehicles in the shadows. One of the vehicles was an ambulance, and another would have been a red and blue semi. Two others were an Aston Martin and a blue semi, the vehicles owned by Strongarm's parents.

 _I remember a lot about my parents. I remember that Mother hated cats, but she tolerated it when Knock Out brought them to base because she thought it was funny that Grimlock was afraid of them. I remember that Father was a great leader and orator, but he was a horrible cook, despite how hard he tried. I can recall the exact shade of Mother's hair and eyes, and the same for my father. But mostly I remember the stories,_ he told Strongarm.

Strongarm gave a sad smile. "My Mom used to tell me stories, too. She told me about Velocitron and how the faster the family, the more wealth they had. She told me about the semi-annual race the Speedia and she told me about the way the sun exploded and some lucky Velocitronains moved to Cybertron. That's where Mom met Sideswipe's father, Breakdown. At her new school on Cybertron." She paused. "I guess she knew of Ultra Magnus at that time, but she really didn't meet him until she joined Team Prime on Earth."

"Aaah!" Bumblebee whipped around at Sideswipe's cry, and then burst into amused laughter. The redhead was lying on the ground, Slipstream sitting on his back and Jetstorm lying across his legs. Jetstorm grabbed the shoelaces of Sideswipe's right shoe and refused to let go. Drift looked down at the younger Cybertronian, expression as neutral as always.

Windblade flew down to land in front of Drift, her pink blades forming and wings spread. She dropped into a fighting stance and arched one eyebrow. "Care to fight someone who matches your level of expertise?"

Before Drift could decline or agree, Fixit yelled out, "Team Bee!"

Bumblebee quickly put his gun in its holster and rushed over to the _Alchemor_ , where Fixit was intently studying a screen. Strongarm was by his side and she stopped just a step behind him when he stopped, allowing Windblade and Drift to flank Bumblebee. Jetstorm and Slipstream stood obediently on the other side of Drift, ears perked up in attentiveness. A shadow fell over the group as Grimlock joined them, still in his T-Rex form.

Bumblebee knew Sideswipe had joined the group when Strongarm randomly asked, "What happened to your face, punk?"

"Slipstream decided to use it as a launch pad," Sideswipe replied.

 _What is it, Fixit_? Bumblebee signed when Fixit looked down at him with his too large eyes.

"The scanners have picked up a massive energon disturbance in – in – in…" Russell, who had just joined the Mini-Con, gave him a rather hard hit to the back. "Thanks, Rusty," Fixit wheezed. "Anyway, it's –"

"Just start up the groundbridge," Windblade ordered. "We'll take a look. Right, Bumblebee?"

Bumblebee nodded confirmation and then started toward the groundbridge as the all-too familiar green swirl burst to life. As he entered the portal, he realized he'd forgotten to tell Grimlock to shift back into his human form; for all he knew, Fixit was transporting them into the middle of a city. As he exited the groundbridge, he realized that he need not worry, as they were standing in the most rural plain Bumblebee had ever been in, most likely somewhere in the middle of the United States…if they were even still in the United States. Maybe he should have at least let Fixit tell him where they were going.

The others came through, Grimlock having reverted to his human form. Perhaps Drift or Windblade had told him to. A hundred yards in front of them set the biggest structure Bumblebee had seen. It must have not been noticed due to its rural positioning. It rose on six pillars up to at least fifty feet and a circular rim connected the pillars at that height. Bright blue energy swirled within that circle, somehow not falling to the ground, as if it was resisting gravity. Bumblebee could swear that it looked like…energon.

"It can't be," Drift murmured.

"An Omega Lock," Windblade gasped.

"What's an Omega Lock?" Sideswipe asked, scratching his head.

"It's an ancient piece of architecture. I'm surprised Steeljaw and his followers could even replicate it. The Omega Lock will make Earth into a metal planet, like Cybertron," Windblade explained. "And in doing so, any organisms without energon pumping through their veins will die."

"But the humans!" Strongarm cried.

"Um, I think they noticed we're here," Grimlock said.

Steeljaw was standing on the upper rim of the Omega Lock, barely visible. Beside him appeared to be his most loyal followers, Thunderhoof and Underbite. From the ground level came the rest of his followers, **rushing** at the Autobots. Circling above them and cawing was a crow that must have been Filch, but Bumblebee doubted she would actually join in the battle.

 _We have to stop the Omega Lock from…_ Helpless, Bumblebee looked over at Windblade and Drift, who seemed to know the most about the Omega Lock.

"It will fire a beam directly into the Earth. It's not primed yet," Drift said.

"But it will be, as soon as those lights running up and down its legs are lit up all the way," Windblade added.

Bumblebee looked at the closest leg and the glowing blue lights – perhaps lit by the energon itself – were extending from the circular rim to the ground and a little less than a fourth of the way.

"Um, there's more of them than us," Sideswipe noted.

 _When has that ever stopped us?_ In moments like these, Bumblebee was etnerally grateful for telepathic communication. _Autobots, rev up and roll out!_

Bumblebee, like all Transformers, was capable of transforming into animals, though he preferred not to. Certain Transformers could fall into a limbo state, with a partial transformation of human and beast, and Steeljaw's Pack mostly consisted of such Transformers, though they could take the shape of a full human or full animal if they so choose.

A woman dressed in brown rushed past Bumblebee, her yell transforming into a roar as she herself transformed into an ankylosaurus. Grimlock transformed into his T-Rex mode and the two Dinobots began circling each other, looking for the advantage. Grimlock's fangs were bared, and Scowl's tail with its club end was swinging around.

Drift and his Mini-Cons had engaged with Fracture and his two Mini-Cons, Airazor and Divebomb. Airazor was a ferocious little capuchin monkey, trying his best to gouge Slipstream's eyes with his fingers and sinking his fangs into the wolf's ear. Divebomb, the harpy eagle, was darting around Jetstorm, ripping his claws into the wolf's haunches before he had time to turn and snap at the large bird, at which point Divebomb just flew out of reach. Drift and Fracture were going sword-to-sword, Fracture promising this would be the day that he finally did Drift in for his honorable ways.

Windblade was engaging the tricky Springload, whose skin was tinged green due to the acid that coated him because of his amphibious beast form. His feet were large frog feet and his legs were bent at an odd angle, but the spring of his limbo mode was unimaginable. Occasionally, his long, pink tongue darted from his mouth, green toxin dripping. Windblade was mostly playing on the defensive, using her psychic blades to parry Springload's tongue and using her wings to stay light on her feet so she could quickly dodge when Springload leaped.

Strongarm was facing off against the two porcupine limbo formers, who were unrelated despite their similar beast affiliations. Quillfire's brown quills had ripped through his brown leather jacket and his nails had changed into brown claws, his canines blunt but strong fangs. Scatterspike looked much like Quillfire, though her claws were gray and her quills were a dark purple that matched her eyes. Her short brown hair had a few orange streaks dyed into it.

"Poor, lit'le Autobot," Scatterspike said, trying to figure out how to turn her back to Strongarm so she could fire her quills without actually giving Strongarm the advantage. "You yellow-bellied varmits will be runnin' to the hills soon, I reckon. Wouldn't ya say so, Quillfire?"

Sideswipe was paired up against Scorponok. The Decepticon's hands had transformed into pinchers with a hard, brown exoskeleton and a tail of the same exoskeleton flicked around behind him, clear poison dripping from the stinger. The redhead was bouncing on the balls of his feet, parrying Scorponok's strikes and calling out one liners, to which Scorponok just responded by hissing or snarling.

Bumblebee saw all this as he raced for the Omega Lock, his only thought to figure out how to power it down or at least stop it from firing…or whatever it did. Bumblebee cried out as a laser beam caught in him in the side and he stumbled, turning to face Bisk as the Decepticon raced toward him. Unlike the others, he hadn't taken his limbo form and instead walked toward Bumblebee in the appearance of a human, laser gun held in his hand, smoke curling from the barrel.

"Looks like your health is dropping," Bisk said, grinning. "I kill the boss, I get the high score." He was losing control at the prospect of killing Bumblebee for the sake of gaining a high score, and lobster antennae were shifting about above his hair. That was the thing about Transformers with limbo forms – they didn't have to concentrate to transform and they could quite easily shift from one form to another. Bumblebee and the rest of the Autobots had to have at least a moment of concentration to shift into another form.

Bumblebee didn't bother responding. First off, he doubted Bisk knew sign language, and, second, he wasn't going to waste any time telepathically communicating with the video game obsessed 'Con. Bisk fired another shot, and Bumblebee executed a backflip to dodge the laser beam, mentally thanking Windblade for her agility lessons. Landing lightly, he pulled his pistol from its holster and fired twice. Bisk shrieked in pain and sat down, looking at the twin wounds in his chest.

"Impossible," he croaked. "I have more XP. How can you beat me?"

Pushing aside a twinge of guilt at the thought that he had so quickly and thoughtlessly taken a life, Bumblebee kicked Bisk's gun away in case the Decepticon didn't die quickly and somehow had enough strength left to fire. As Bisk muttered something about failing his quest and not getting the high score, Bumblebee spun around at the sound of a foot step and pointed his pistol directly at Clampdown.

The short and squat Decepticon screeched, his too-large limbo form mouth wide in terror. His face lacked any eyes, as in his limbo form they moved around atop his head on eyestalks, and his hands were red claws.

"I'm sorry, I don't want to die. I don't even like Steeljaw that much!" Clampdown whined. "If I tell you how to stop the Omega Lock, will you let me go?"

Bumblebee gestured for Clampdown to keep talking. Looking a little more relieved, Clampdown complied.

"There's a control panel up where Steeljaw is standing. You can shut down the entire Omega Lock, or you could just destroy the entire control panel. That's all I know, really!"

Bumblebee took a step toward Clampdown and with a terrified wail, the cowardly Decepticon shifted into a crab and scuttled off. Not wasting any more time with him, Bumblebee raced toward the Omega Lock. Approaching the nearest leg, he holstered his pistol and began to climb.

"Autobot! Prepare to be destroyed by the Beast from Kaon!"

Cursing mentally, Bumblebee looked up at the massive gorilla swinging down the leg toward him. Groundpounder had been a gladiator long ago, and while he was no Megatron, he had earned his name, Beast from Kaon. Bumblebee didn't have time to fight the Decepticon and, as Groundpounder closed the distance, Bumblebee closed his eyes and concentrated.

For some reason, some Transformers took longer than others to transform. Bumblebee knew his mother had been one of those – she had only shifted into a dog for her guardianship duties of Raf, and those hadn't been high-stress moments – and Bumblebee seemed to take after her. Strange, considering his father had b

* * *

een a Prime with no lag between thinking of a transformation and the transformation taking place.

Pushing all that aside, Bumblebee envisioned the very animal he was named after, which he had the least trouble shifting into. As Groundpounder swiped at his head with a strike that would have done him in, Bumblebee suddenly wasn't there anymore, but instead buzzing up by Groundpounder's nose. Stinging Groundpounder right between the eyes for good measure, since he wasn't an Earth bee and would survive such an act, Bumblebee flew up toward the Omega Lock rim. Below him, Groundpounder howled and fell toward the ground, pounding at his own face due to the sting.

Upon reaching the rim, Bumblebee shifted back and quickly kicked Underbite in the back of the head. The Decepticon howled in pain – literally, since he shifted into a large bulldog with huge jowls – and Steeljaw and Thunderhoof turned to face Bumblebee. Steeljaw snarled, while Thunderhoof straightened the lapel of his suit, though he was glaring at Bumblebee.

"Youse about ta get ta thunda!" Thunderhoof threatened, taking a step forward.

Reflexively, Bumblebee pointed his gun at Thunderhoof, though he had yet to shift into his deer form, which was required to create the energy blast he was threatening to make. Steeljaw beat him to it, placing a hand on Thunderhoof's chest.

"Fool! You create an energy blast near all this energon, and the entire place will explode," he snapped. "Take the bug out with your weapons. You, too, Underbite! And don't shoot the energon."

 _I will defeat them_ , Bumblebee promised Steeljaw telepathically.

"I'm sure you will, but they only need to keep you distracted for a few more minutes and then it won't matter, because the Omega Lock will turn Earth into a second Cybertron," Steeljaw replied. He walked over to the control panel, where many lights were blinking and warnings were flashing on screens. As Bumblebee watched, a warning disappeared and another light began blinking; the lights must indicate that another system of the Omega Lock was ready.

Underbite charged forward, his mouth opening impossibly wide in an attempt to swallow Bumblebee whole. Dropping his gun, Bumblebee grabbed Underbite's bottom fangs and jerked to the side, throwing both of them off-balance. They tumbled toward the energon pool, Underbite shifting back into a human. Bumblebee gave him a sharp punch to the eye.

"Ow. How dare you destroy my beautiful face?" Underbite cried.

Bumblebee grabbed his gun, finger on the trigger and ready to fire. Unfortunately, he'd forgotten about Thunderhoof, who charged forward now with powerful antlers sticking up above his greased back black hair. Apparently having no concern for his teammate, Thunderhoof struck both Underbite and Bumblebee. Underbite shrieked and Bumblebee ignored the pain ricocheting up from where Thunderhoof's antlers had pierced his chest and shattered his ribs as he pressed the muzzle of his pistol against Thunderhoof's head and started to squeeze the trigger. Only Thunderhoof had too much momentum and his charge sent all three of them into the energon pool. The charge from Bumblebee's gun went off just as they hit the surface.

For some time – maybe mere seconds, maybe hours – Bumblebee was aware of nothing but a horrible burning sensation. It was like he was being fired at by a high-pressure hose, leaving his skin raw and painful. The worst of the burning came from his chest and throat.

Then there was only numbness and glimpses of a planet he had never seen but he instinctively recognized it as Cybertron. Bumblebee had been born on Earth and what little he knew of Cybertron he had learned from stories, but he was suddenly filled with a longing to be there on Cybertron. It was the ancestral home of all Transformers. Bumblebee couldn't understand why his parents and the other members of Team Prime had been willing to never set foot on their home planet again, why they had willingly chosen to stay on Earth, amongst the humans, whom they were constantly separated from, no matter how alike they looked.

For one terrifying moment, Bumblebee wondered if he really should stop Steeljaw. Maybe he should let the Omega Lock turn Earth into a second Cybertron. Steeljaw was like him, outlawed from Cybertron, and, like him, Steeljaw must have wanted to return to his home…the home of their parents. But then he thought of Raf, who was coming for a visit soon, and Miko, Jack, Russell, Denny, June, and Fowler…all those innocent humans, including that little girl he'd met in Crown City once who'd made his day by actually knowing sign language.

His fist closed around the handle of some weapon and he kicked in the direction he thought was up. His head broke the surface of the energon pool and he gasped for breath, the last of the burning fading from his throat. As he swung his right arm up to pull himself up onto the Omega Lock's rim, he realized he was holding a sword in his grasp – a bright, glowing sword.

Around him, the energon boiled and fires burned on the surface, the substance reacting violently to the charge Bumblebee had accidentally shot into the pool. On the far side of the Omega Lock, Bumblebee could see Thunderhoof pulling himself out of the energon rather ungracefully, his suit smoking and not so pristine anymore. There was no sign of Underbite.

Steeljaw was standing at the control panel, hands to his head as he cried out, "No, no, no, no!" No lights were flashing and the warnings were endless. He spun around as Bumblebee stumbled to his feet. "You – you did this. You destroyed my beautiful Omega Lock, you –" His eyes widened. "How did you get that?"

Bumblebee glanced down at the Star Saber shimmering in his grip. He had been told that Primes alone could hold the Star Saber without being burned – he'd even heard stories of a former Decepticon named Charlotte, who'd been burned trying to retrieve the Star Saber for Megatron. Optimus had had the ability to summon the blade, though he had rarely done so, and there had been no sign of the sword since Optimus's disappearance. But here it was, sending a tingling feeling of strength up through Bumblebee's arms, across his chest, and directly into his spark. The ribs Thunderhoof had damaged no longer hurt him.

He hefted the blade. "I'm the son of a Prime. You should never underestimate me."

Steeljaw's eyes widened even more. "You…you…how?"

Bumblebee charged forward, bringing the Star Saber down in a wide arc. Steeljaw dodged aside, but that was fine, because he hadn't been aiming for Steeljaw. The control panel was cleaved in half in a fantastic display of sparks. Bumblebee spun back around, and Steeljaw looked even more upset, and terrified.

"You slagging idiot. The whole thing is going to explode!" Steeljaw must have called out telepathically even as he spoke aloud, Bumblebee decided – and he also knew this because he would have done the same, could he have spoken aloud. "Decepticons, retreat!"

 _Fixit!_

Fixit responded to Bumblebee telepathic call immediately. Sorting out a background message about cameras and stellar infusion, Bumblebee determined Fixit's response to be, _Bumblebee. What can I do for you? Is anyone injured?_

 _Open the groundbridge. Tell everyone to get through it. Last I saw, everyone was okay._

 _Will do, he – she –_ Bee _,_ Fixit promised among another background message about the Knights of the Round Table.

Bumblebee walked to the edge of the rim as the entire Omega Lock began to shake. The energon swirled and more flames appeared. Some of the energon splashed onto the rim and began burning there, hot enough to make the metal near the flames bubble. Bumblebee regretted that they couldn't obtain the energon for their own use, and he reflected it must have taken Steeljaw quite a bit of time to collect all this energon and the materials to build the Omega Lock. Steeljaw's Pack must have had the Autobots chasing them far and wide to distract them from their efforts here. Far below, he could see their groundbridge swirl to life.

Grimlock was snarling at Scowl as she backed away from him, swinging her tail threateningly. Grimlock must have received Fixit's order, as he didn't chase after Scowl, but instead began backing toward the portal. Both Dinobots seemed hesitant to turn their backs on the other. Drift, Jetstorm, and Slipstream were at the groundbridge portal and Drift was waving the Mini-Con brothers through. Strongarm and Sideswipe were walking toward the groundbridge together, but they were much closer to the Omega Lock than the groundbridge. For a moment, Bumblebee panicked because he couldn't see Windblade, before he noticed her flying over the battlefield, locating all her teammates. Filch was up there as well, looking for the Decepticons.

The Omega Lock shuddered and Bumblebee stumbled, nearly losing his grip on the Star Saber. It had come for him, and he wasn't going to let it go that easily.

One of the Omega Lock's legs crumbled, and with a groan, the entire structure began to slowly tilt. Bumblebee scuttled toward the highest point as the Omega Lock began to fall. Flaming bits of metal fell down past him, one passing so close his yellow jacket began to smolder.

"Bee!" Windblade dived toward him to grab him and pull him from the falling, flaming wreckage.

And that was when the Omega Lock exploded.

Windblade shrieked as the explosion buffeted her, throwing her away from Bumblebee. Filch, too, was sent flying through the air and not under her own power. Down below, Sideswipe and Strongarm ducked their heads and covered themselves as best they could. Though he would later deny it, Sideswipe offered up his own body as a shield for his little sister. Drift looked up in horror, while Grimlock did as well, reverting to his human form. The Decepticons shattered in every direction, their only thought to get away. Back at the base, Fixit flinched as he realized something had gone wrong, alerting Denny and Russell. The two humans were even more alarmed as Jetstorm and Slipstream whined and then raced back through the groundbridge.

As for Bumblebee, there was nothingness.

When he finally woke up, the first thing he noted was that the side of his face felt wet. He began mentally checking for any pain, but nothing seemed drastic – just soreness and bruising. Maybe he wasn't hurt that badly, or maybe he was so burned, he no longer had any nerves. He grunted as something wet and sandpapery ran up the side of his face again, pulling through his blond hair.

Opening his eyes, Bumblebee found himself looking up the snout of a very curious cow. Pushing the cow's nose away, Bumblebee set up with a groan. The cow licked his hair again, creating a rather large and noticeable, well, cowlick. When the cow made to lick him yet again, he shooed her off, swatting at her slimy nose.

"I'm not grass," he snapped.

Exhaling a gust of air in what might have been a disappointed sigh, the cow lumbered off a few paces and began ripping up the grass with her tongue. Ignoring the cow, Bumblebee moved his jaw, checking for pain. Something had been off when he had spoken to the bovine. As there was no pain, he decided it wasn't worth bothering about and looked around for any sign of the others. The only other things he could see were several other cows and endless grassy plains.

The Star Saber was gone. The loss was almost a physical blow, but Bumblebee was soothed by the thought that no one else could use the blade – he wasn't even sure how he had been able to use the sword.

Bumblebee huffed as the cow's tail whacked him in the face. Slapping away her tail, he turned to glare at the cow. She didn't appear to mind, but instead offered only a low bellow before she lumbered a few more steps away and thankfully out of swatting range. Bumblebee pushed himself to his feet and sent up a mental ping – no words, just a way for the others to locate him if they were within mental range.

Almost immediately, Windblade reached out to him telepathically. _You're okay, thank Primus! Sideswipe and Strongarm are closer to you than Drift and me and they're on their way._

 _How are the others?_ Bumblebee was concerned with only the welfare of his team, his friends.

 _Grimlock and Fixit are the farthest team out, but they should be heading toward your location now. Other than a scrape on Grimlock's knee, they're fine. Drift and I are a little bruised and sore, but nothing serious. Sideswipe and Strongarm were closest to the blast, but they refused to be checked until we had found you. Slipstream and Jetstorm are okay – they were at the scrapyard when the Omega Lock blew. Are you injured?_

 _Just sore and bruised. A miracle I'm not burned to a crisp,_ Bumblebee replied.

Drift jumped into the conversation. _We should all send prayers of thanks to Primus tonight. It is more than a miracle that we all survived, and with no major injuries at that._

After sending a rush of agreement, Bumblebee pulled his mental psyche in close, ending the conversation. He could now hear Sideswipe and Strongarm calling his name from behind him. Spinning around, he saw the half-siblings rushing through the fields toward him. The cattle paid them no mind, other than a few who looked up lazily as they passed. Bumblebee ran toward them. The three youngest members of Team Bee collided in a rather clumsy, but heartfelt, three-way hug.

" _You guys are okay!"_ Bumblebee cried out in relief.

Sideswipe pushed him away to arm's length, studying him in surprise. Strongarm looked just as stunned. "Bumblebee…you, you talked."

" _That's impossible,"_ Bumblebee protested, but even as he did he realized how weirdly doubled his voice sounded. That off feeling came over him, but now he recognized it as movement. The movement of lips, a tongue, and jaws that had never once been put to use. No longer speaking telepathically, Bumblebee degraded to a long string of curse words – both English and Cybertronian. Figures that he would gain a voice only to put it to use in such a way lacking of eloquence.

Finally catching a breath, he croaked, "How is this possible?"

Sideswipe on shook his head in mystified silence. Strongarm, however, was beaming. "Who cares, Bee? You finally got your voice! Chalk it up as a blessing from Primus."

"I hardly doubt Primus would bless us so much. First not letting any of us be injured or worse and then gifting me with a voice that was stolen before I was even born," Bumblebee argued. "Then again, we might be due a blessing from Primus."

The three Autobots fell into silence. Windblade and Drift, trailed by the Mini-Con wolves, soon joined them, immediately followed by Fixit and Grimlock. The buff man grinned in relief, while Fixit gushed excitably about the good health of his teammates. Bumblebee made a mental note that Grimlock and Fixit made a good team, with Grimlock being quite easily able to push Fixit's wheelchair through any terrain – or he could always just carry Fixit if it came to that.

"What are the stats of the 'Cons?" Bumblebee asked.

Windblade's wings flared in surprise, whacking Fixit's glasses askew. Drift's eyes widened by a slight degree, which was Drift for floored. Grimlock opened his mouth, but all that escaped was a not so ferocious squeak. Jetstorm and Slipstream set up on their haunches, backs stiff and ears perked.

"You can talk," Fixit said, straightening his glasses. He didn't sound surprised, merely perplexed, as if he were thinking of the logic reasons why Bumblebee's damaged vocal cords would suddenly be capable of speech and not finding any that he could conclude as correct.

"What happened?" Windblade asked.

"I don't know. Gaining my voice back isn't the only weird thing that happened today. I summoned the Star Saber," Bumblebee told her.

"I know. I saw it in your hands," the Camien Cybertronian replied.

"That is easily explained," Drift said. "Your father was a Prime and your mother was from an ancient bloodline, descended from Solomus, the first Liaison, chosen by Primus himself. You have ancient and powerful blood in your veins, and this must be why you could hold the Star Saber."

"Huh. Doesn't explain the voice, though."

"No, but sometimes good things just happen," Grimlock said. "Like me finding Denny and Rusty in that scrapyard. I was so lonely, but then I befriended them, and then I found other Autobots."

"You're right, Grimlock. I should except this for the gift it is and not ponder the 'how?'. Now, to answer my initial question, what is the status of the Decepticons?" Bumblebee inquired.

"Bisk and Quillfire didn't make it," Strongarm said, "and I don't think Underbite escaped from the Omega Lock before the explosion, but I can't confirm that."

"Filch got away, as did Scowl and Springload," Windblade added. "Thunderhoof, too."

"And Clampdown," Bumblebee stated. "He fled before I even got to the Omega Lock."

"Fracture and Divebomb escaped, but we did manage to defeat Airazor," Drift commented. "He's currently napping in a stasis pod aboard the _Alchemor_."

"That just leaves Scatterspike, Grounderpounder, and Steeljaw unaccounted for," Fixit concluded.

"I suppose it's too much to hope that Steeljaw got blown to bits?" Sideswipe asked grimly.

"I think we've exceed our limit for fortunate happenings," Bumblebee told him. "We managed to defeat three of the Decepticons today, maybe four if Underbite really is dead. We'll deal with the others when they pop their heads up, which they will, because I believe we just blew up most of their energon reserves. How about we go home and take some much needed time to relax?"

"Scary movie marathon!" Sideswipe cheered, while Drift grunted and rolled his eyes in distaste. Windblade's lips twitched in a smile, while Strongarm grinned and slapped her half-brother's back in agreement. Grimlock smiled, exposing sharp canines.

As Slipstream and Jetstorm milled around Drift's legs – alternating between wagging their tails and looking excited and looking subdued whenever Drift looked down at them – Bumblebee said, "I can settle for a scary movie marathon. As long as Denny approves the movies for Russell to watch!"

"I'll get the popcorn," Fixit promised. "I've been wanting to try out this sheet – beat - _heat_ ray I found in the _Alchemor_ 's storage units."

Simultaneously, the other Autobots gave the beaming Mini-Con looks of varying degrees of horror at the thought of Fixit possessing a heat ray.

"Maybe we should just stick to the microwave, Fixit," Bumblebee cautioned.

Fixit just smiled sheepishly. "Oh, yeah. That would work, too."

 **A few notes: 1 - I know all the Decepticons listed in this chapter weren't part of Steeljaw's pack, but I pulled in a few more 'Cons that I liked to make the Decepticon forces larger 2 - I know the real Scowl was male, but my Scowl is female 3 - Bumblebee talks now simply because it is easier to write and because I like felt like he deserved a voice 4 - I forgot to write in Thunderhoof's accent in the last chapter, and I apologize, but he's got it here**

 **Thanks for reading and reviews are welcome!**


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